Passion!

Lovely, isn't it?

Ok, so you're saying, "Two white doors. What's the big deal?"

This. This is the big deal.

Our second bedroom, which we use as our office (plus guitar storage, cat accommodations, and occasional guest room), was apparently previously a teenager's bedroom. Or possibly a schizophrenic's. I picture a goth princess. When we first moved in, the walls were this awful dull coral color, but around the edge of the ceiling there was a strip of old paint where the last owners had failed to grasp how painters' tape works. So, before yucky dull coral, the walls had been bright vibrant red... and the ceiling had been black. On the back of these two doors (hall on the left, closet on the right), you could see distinct hints of this angsty expression beneath a hastily applied thin coat of white. You could clearly read the word "PASSION" in raised pink letters.

After ignoring it for way too long, I finally got to work with the sander. A couple of hours and two very numb hands later, a blanket of dust covered me and everything in the room, and the full glory of the artistry was revealed.

I was fifteen once, and I kind of get it; besides, I painted a few whole-room murals that I know were a much bigger pain to undo than this pair of doors. So I have a hard time being upset with the artist. Although really: shoe prints? This person dipped her shoes - Vans, specifically - in paint and then planted them on the doors. Multiple times. In different colors. (The vine is kind of nice, though.)

The shoddy job in covering it up - that part annoys me. I would much rather they'd just left it as is, and I would have a lot less white dust everywhere.

It took 4 coats of primer and two coats of paint, but the "passion" has been erased, now preserved only in photos.